


Need

by MoonImp



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, charles tries to help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2474633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonImp/pseuds/MoonImp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murderface hasn't had sex in forever, so he rapes Pickles. It's up to Charles to deal with the situation.</p>
<p>Guys seriously, its a story about Murderface raping Pickles, odds that you'll like this fic are minimal, I'm just trying to warn you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A painful experience

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in 2012 and posted it one fanfiction.net but I just got and account here and hope that I will finish it here.  
> Apologies in advance for bad grammar, I try to catch it but sometimes I don't

William Murderface was despised by all women. The reasoning for this could be because he is fat, ugly, shows hate and disrespect for all women, or even because he is just a bass player. Whatever the reasoning, it left the fat bass player with a lonely dick and a massive sexual appetite for anything that moved.

Every once in a while the occasional desperate drunken slut would have sex with Murderface, only to realize what they had done the next morning, and commit suicide in their own parents' house leaving behind a note expressing massive guilt. But even that suicidal desperate drunken slut was rare, and the bass player would go months without the feel of a warm body in his bed. Excessive masturbation seemed to be the only thing keeping him at bay from humping any living thing he laid eyes on.

But after six months of no sex Murderface could not take it any longer...

It had been an exhausting day for the band; they had performed a concert in Washington for the visiting 8th graders from all over the United States. As usual many people died, half of which were 8th graders due to a confetti malfunction. Many people were sliced to pieces and bled to death due to the confetti's sharp paper edges and its extreme velocity as it shot out of the cannons. And as usual the band didn't care and Charles would have to deal with the paper work and law suits, it was a good thing everyone signed those pain waivers.

After a long drive Dethklok returned to Mordhaus where they continued to do what they loved most after a concert. Skwisgaar went to his bedroom with two GMILFS and one MILF to screw. Nathan had two young ladies of his own that he escorted to his room. Toki didn't usually bang sluts but he was feeling frisky and had brought a nice looking woman with him. Pickles had tried to get some ladies but he was way too drunk, he had attracted a couple of ladies at a bar but he ended up throwing up all over them. Murderface and Pickles both ended up flopping down on the sofa defeated from their efforts of getting women for the night.

"Well, this sucks," Pickles slurred before taking a drink of tequila from a half filled bottle.

"Tell me about it," Murderface retorted in his heavy lisp. He looked over at Pickles, who was quickly devouring the rest of his drink. The bass player watched as the drummer tilted his head all the way back to get every drop out of the bottle. Pickles pale skin moved with the rhythm of his gulping. Murderface couldn't help but lock in on it.

Before the drummer was able to finish his drink the bass player was on him. Murderface threw his weight on top of Pickles and covered the drunken man's lips with his own. The bottle clattered to the floor as Pickles struggled to get his band mate off of him. William ignored the red head's struggles until Pickles was able to knee him in the balls causing him to yelp in pain and fall to the floor.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Pickles screamed before spiting the nasty taste Will left in his mouth out on the floor. Murderface quickly recovered from the blow to his balls, he had had worse done to them, playing the bass with his dick hurt more that getting kicked in the nuts.

"Sorry Pickles," William said calmly and showed a little remorse for effect," I haven't been with someone in so long. Pickles seemed to understand, which is why his next move wasn't to beat the shit out of the other man. He would just try and forget it, after all, he and Murderface had been friends for such a long time that one weird gay moment couldn't just ruin their friendship.

"Look Murderface, let's just forget this happened," The drummer said sympathetically and slightly repulsed by William's actions. "Good night," he added and turned to walk away eager to just leave this behind him. What he hadn't anticipated was how determined and lonely Murderface really was, and how this was nowhere close to being over. Murderface grabbed up the fallen bottle from the floor and hit his band mate across the head with it.

An hour later Pickles woke up on a nice soft bed. His head felt heavy and he thought maybe it was just a hangover. He tried to reach up his hand to touch his head but he couldn't seem to get his hands to pull away from his back. He soon realized that his hands were bound behind his back. He let out a groan from the pain in his head, but for some reason it came out muffled, duct tape covered his mouth. Finally fully conscious and aware (for a drunk man), Pickles sat up as best he could and looked around at his surroundings with slight blurry vision and realized that he was in Murderface's room. Panic swept over him. 'This can't be happening,' he thought.

The bass player came in to the room just as Pickles was struggling to get to his feet with his hands currently disabled. Murderface locked the door and faced the drummer. Pickle's eyes widened at the sight of the other man. William was completely naked and had a feral look in his eyes. He walked toward the red head ready to pounce but Pickles made a break for the window. Murderface quickly intervened and grabbed Pickles by his hair pulling him on to the bed violently. The drummer yelled out in to the duct tape at the pain. Murderface jumped on top of Pickles and they struggled together. The bass player tried to pull the other man's pants off and he tried to kick Murderface away. William let out a yell of frustration and wrapped his hands around Pickles' neck.

Pickles tried to kick more but his lack of air supply was getting the best of him. Eventually he quit his movements and lay there as unconsciousness started to take him but that's when his band mate let go. Pickles quickly breathed in as much air as he could through his nose. Murderface then unbuckled Pickles pants and ripped them off. He then sat on the smaller man’s waist to keep him from moving while still having access to rip off the rest of his clothing.

The red head's arms felt strained from being behind him for so long, his throat hurt from being choked, and he felt so tired from fighting. He knew Murderface would one day go as far as raping someone to satisfy the needs that he had no choice but to neglect; but Pickles never thought that once that day came it would be him being raped and not some random woman off the street. He started to hyperventilate a little. He had never been in a position where he wasn't in control, unless you count rehab, but even then he had room to move. Murderface was heavy and Pickles couldn't turn any which way to get free. He began to wonder if this was real, it felt real, it was real, and it was even believable, yet Pickles didn’t actually want to believe it. 

Never the less, he had no choice but to believe it. His heart started to race faster, his breathing became quicker, and he began to panic. He tried to flail his legs with what strength he could muster after almost being choked unconscious but the quick movements of his free limbs hitting the bed and swinging around caused Murderface to place his hands back on Pickles’ neck, the red head immediately stopped his erratic movement afraid of what could happen if his neck were squeezed a bit too long. 

William pulled the smaller man's underwear off and quickly flipped Pickles on to his stomach in one swift movement. He had more strength than Pickles thought. The bass player pulled Pickles ass up to his dick and the drummer felt something big and calloused rubbing up against his backside. His hyperventilating grew more intense and he tried to get away again, struggling to push himself away with his feet but Murderface had the upper hand. He easily held the drummer in his current position. A calloused hand gripped the thin pale neck of the smaller man; his face pushed against the mattress and his knees holding his ass up against Muderface's dick. Pickles swallowed hard. He tried pleading with Murderface but it only came out as muffled cries for help.

"Pickles, this might hurt," William mentioned ready for what was to come next. "I gotta warn you though, I don't use lube, I like the feeling of warm blood against my dick, and there will be plenty of it soon." This only made Pickles try to get away faster but he had nothing but slippery silk sheets to aid in his struggles to escape.

William began to push his thick calloused dick in to Pickle's asshole. It was a very tight squeeze. Pickles began to yell through the duct tape at the intrusion and pain. It got worse the further Murderface pushed in. The bass player let out a satisfied grunt when he finally pushed all the way in. It was harder to get it in than Murderface thought, he was so thick and Pickles was so small but the payoff for getting it in was worth it.

"So, tight," Murderface breathed out in ecstasy. Pickles breathed heavily through his nose trying not to panic over a large rough dick being pushed far up his anus. The red head didn't have time to get used to the feeling, in fact, he was still clinching his ass, which he had no idea would make things worse.

The bass player pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in quickly earning him a scream from the red head. Pickles could scream louder then he thought, so Murderface reached for the side table to grab a controller and he turned on some loud metal music to cover any further noises.

He then started to pump in to Pickles forcefully. Murderface moaned and cursed about how wonderful Pickles felt. Pickles on the other hand couldn't help but scream. He felt like his anus was being shredded. Eventually Murderface's dick felt like it was going in and out more easily but that was because the red head's blood was acting as a lubricant.

Pickles screamed and yelled with each movement Murderface made. It was the most painful feeling the drummer felt and he had felt a lot of pain. After only a few minutes of pumping in to Pickles Murderface finally came. It had been so long since William had done this he couldn't last that long. The smaller man felt something warm spurt in to him. Murderface pulled out roughly and it was that moment that not only did Pickles scream again but he began to cry too. He sobbed in to the silk sheets as William got off the bed. Minutes later the bass player returned to the bed, his dick was fully erect.

"We're not done yet," William said ready for another go.


	2. Will it ever end?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murderface continues to hurt Pickles

Pickles had had dark times in his life, that much was proven but the excessive drinking habit he so successfully kept for almost his entire life. After his brother had blamed him for the garage burning down his life almost burn down with it. His parents thought he was nothing but trouble after that moment. Pickles was regarded as a reckless trouble maker with no regard for anyone but himself. His parents constantly talked about his older brother Seth as if he was the best thing since sliced bread. The older brother could do nothing wrong and no matter what Pickles did it was always wrong. And if Pickles finally proved he could do something that was actually impressive Seth took the credit. Pickles learned to play the guitar, Seth showed him. Pickles joined a band, Seth inspired him. All of this was of course lies though.

This line of thought was a tragic line of thought indeed for Pickles as those times were simpler times. The times where Pickles sought out the approval of his family yet never got it and then struggled as an artist until he reached his way to the top were all but a line of bull shit now. He's gone through all that just to get here. A quivering mess under a disgusting, hairy, horny man whom was desperate for anything. Pickles would think this was ironic in some way. He tried to get the approval of his family and got none and then he made a new family, his band. Sure they had a rule of ignoring each other's problems or making fun of each other but it was where Pickles wanted to be and they never got intimate like a family but it was the best one he had. And the irony comes when he got more than just approval from Murderface.

Pickles squirmed on the bed trying to get good enough leverage to get up out of the bed as he watched Murderface move closer to him. Wasn't he done? After all the pent-up sexual tension William had been carrying, shouldn't one fuck release him long enough to realize what he had done? One supposes not because he was ready to go again, but this time he was ready for something different. William didn't know when he'd get the chance for sex again so he wanted to do a few things. He grabbed the struggling Pickles and pulled him on to the floor with a thud, or at least you'd think a sound would have come from the fall had the music not been so loud. Murderface sat on the bed and pulled pickles by his hair to a knee sitting position in between his band mate's legs. Murderface ripped the tape off of Pickles mouth and Pickles did what anyone in their right mind would do, he screamed. But death metal is very loud and a dethklok song is hard to hear over. During their concerts you can barely hear the screams of the massacred people they accidentally kill.

"Murderface, please don't!" Pickles yelled. Murderface couldn't hear him all that well but he had a pretty good idea of what the drummer was probably trying to say. William grabbed Pickles's hair tighter and pulled him up higher and lowered his head to the drummer's ear.

"If you bite me I swear you will wish you were dead!" Pickles had wished he was dead many times in his life. Like when his family made him feel useless, or when he was down on his luck in between bands. He wasn't afraid of threat and he may have been violated in one place but he sure as hell wasn't going to get violated in another. Murderface brought his dick to Pickles mouth. Pickles looked up angrily and snapped at the bass players dick with his teeth. William actually had anticipated this, knowing Pickles a little too well and pulled away quickly. He then proceeded to punch Pickles across the face.

William was a sick bastard, at least that's what he thought of himself. What is more metal than being more violent that most people. Death was metal, and torture was closely related to death. Murderface grabbed Pickle's dick and touched the tip of his thumb to pickles pee hole. He slowly pushed his thumb inside. This hurt more than anything Pickles had ever felt before. He put his feet on Muderfaces chest and pushed himself away but Murderface grabbed his legs and pulled him back this time sitting on Pickles legs. He did it again, pushing his thumb in half way, Pickles screamed an inhumane scream, tears stung his eyes and he wished the pain would stop. Murderface pushed his thumb in all the way and pickles jerked and struggled in all directions trying to get away but his band mate was too heavy.

"Please!" Pickles screamed out with his eyes twisted shut and the tears still flowing, "Please stop!" He couldn't get anymore words out than that.

"Open your mouth!" William roared. Pickles had been clenching his mouth shut in pain he wasn't sure he could even open it to beg for the pain to go away. Murderface twisted his thumb and Pickles screamed out again. The bass player put two fingers in the drummer's mouth. "Suck on it." Pickles did, he'd do anything for this just to be over. Finally satisfied that the red head would do what he said he pulled out his thumb dragged pickles' face to his nether regions and stuck his dick down the other man's throat. Pickles gagged but didn't move, afraid Murderface might hurt him more. The bass player moved his hips in a rolling motion as he fucked pickles mouth long and hard. Pickles tried to breathe through his nose but the choking was making it difficult. Pickles struggles to breath and the gagging made his throat constrict making this moment more pleasurable for Murderface. When William came close to coming he shoved his full length in to Pickles mouth practically choking the poor man to death and came. Pickles had to swallow it to keep from breathing the cum in. Murderface rolled over on to the floor breathing hard and satisfied. Pickles rolled over unable to do anything but sob. He couldn't reach his hand to wipe away his tears because he was still tied, and it was the most pathetic site to see him try to curl up in to a ball. Pickles than puked the cum up along with all the alcohol he drank covering the floor and himself in regurgitated liquids.


	3. finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pickles goes to his room

Pickles thought after a while that it wasn't the burning sensation from having a thick calloused cock rammed in to him that was the worst feeling of being fucked by another man, it wasn't that his own blood had become lubricant, it wasn't even the larger body trapping him. It was the part where he actually felt some sort of pleasure. Murderface's cock would hit a certain spot and it would feel a little good. The feeling was good enough to make him hard. This was not to suggest that he in anyway liked what was happening, had Pickles been a doctor he would have known that is was a biological response that had nothing to do with his true tastes and preferences.

After the second time of being taken up the ass, his biology reacted through the pain. When his prostate was jabbed by an intrusion his dick hardened and Pickles felt more than violation, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time, shame. It hurt so much; he wondered how he could have liked this. Why was his body enjoying this? Maybe he was gay? What would the guys think?

Murderface didn't notice the reaction of Pickles body. He just continued to move and kissed the drummer deeply slipping his tongue inside the others mouth. The red head didn't fight it. He had given up; if he pulled away and didn't let the other man get his way then he would be tortured. Besides, it didn't really matter; Pickles' body was certainly enjoying it.

The bass player had a lot of stamina this second time around; he was tearing through Pickles asshole for at least an hour this time. Pickles body went with the sways of his band mates jerking, bouncing in to the mattress, not struggling. He didn't move or react but his hard dick slapped up against Williams stomach with every thrust.

Being balls deep in another person wasn't cutting it for William anymore. He continued to kiss the other man and play with Pickles nipples with his rough thumbs. Pickles skin was softer then it looked. It was like fucking a woman. He rubbed up against the drummer trying to get as close as possible and the skin to skin contact was bringing him closer to climax but then Murderface noticed the dick slapping up against him and he wondered why he hadn't noticed that before.

"You fucking faggot!" Murderface yelled and grabbed Pickles dick roughly in his hand. Pickles yelped in pain and Murderface pulled it hard and away from him. He let it go, flipped the smaller man over and continued fucking. At least Pickles didn't have to look at the other man's face now; at least Murderface couldn't kiss in this position.

William Murderface didn't consider himself gay. True he'd fuck anything, mostly women. Fucking a man was just a new low for him and he could ignore he was fucking a man, but the hard dick, that wasn't his, was almost a reality check. He reminded himself that he wasn't gay and that the asshole he was submerged in felt just like a tight virgin vagina. This thought made him go crazy and pull Pickles up on top of him so that he was lying down and Pickles was straddled on to his hips in a sitting position. He bounced up and down letting the red head bounce up and down hard on his dick. He came a few moments later and pushed Pickles off the bed letting him tumble painfully to the floor. Murderface felt absolutely spent. He wanted to do more but he was a fat lazy man who needed his beauty sleep. He fell asleep quickly leaving a traumatized band mate laying on the floor in slight shock.

Pickles wasn't sure how long he laid there until he realized Murderface was asleep, but after a while of lying there the other man didn't come to claim him again. He rolled over and saw the bass player lying on the bed with his chest moving up and down slowly.

Pickles scooted to the nearest wall and leaned his weight against it in order to stand up. It was hard to stand up, his legs were shaking and his body felt weak. His ass felt sore and there were sharp burning pains in his rectum. He stood there a moment leaning against the wall with his eyes close, there was this strange wet sensation in his anus which he figured was blood but when he looked down and saw what was dripping out it wasn't just blood, it was semen.

The red head panicked. He stumbled quickly to the door, having to turn around to open the door as his hands were stilled taped behind his back. He got to the door and started to run down the long hall trying to make it to his room as quick as possible. However, Pickles wasn't the luckiest person in the world. He ran right in to one of the klokateers. The klokateer apologizes quickly but then noticed Pickles naked, bloody, and bruised body.

"My master, are you alright," the servant asked moving toward Pickles to help him. Pickles backed away quickly.

"No, and don't tell anyone what you saw here or I swear to God I will kill you," the drummer said hurriedly and ran as quick as he could not wanting the situation to last any longer.


	4. Charles is suspicious

Charles Ofdensen always got these feelings that there was something wrong with the band he managed. Anything could go wrong and he was always on alert, but when he woke in the middle of the night due to a small feeling he wasn't sure how to take it. Usually he was sure things were wrong, but this time it was a small twinge. He supposed he could just be paranoid, sometimes if he got this small feeling it was a false alarm and one of the boys had just caused harm to the other. It was never anything serious; he was used to them beating the shit out of each other. Charles decided not to ignore the feeling; it was better safe than sorry when it came to Dethklok.

He called one of the klokateers. "Do a head count of the boys," he ordered. The klokateer responded that the band had just gotten back not too long ago and each had went to bed with a female friend, except Murderface and Pickles who were seen together heading to bed.

It was just a normal night, nothing wrong. Charles still felt suspicious but he also felt tired from a long day's hard work and he was eager to get some sleep. He accepted that the boys were fine and that if anything was wrong it could be fixed tomorrow, because after all, it was just a small feeling.

Charles would soon regret his decision to sleep because what he heard in the morning greatly worried him. Pickles was seen bruised, bloody, and naked last night making his way to his bedroom. Ofdensen would not have been as deeply concerned if the drummer was just bruised and bloody as that can happen to drunken men not in their right mind, but naked? The manager quickly got dressed and ready and called an emergency band meeting, eager to find out what had occurred last night, maybe the naked thing was just part of the drunk thing.

When the band members showed up Charles made sure to catalog how they all were doing this morning. Nathan and Skwisgaar looked tired but that was understandable for the morning. Toki looked well rested which was normal. Murderface seemed a little off, a little chipper for the morning, which was suspicious. Pickles was a no show which was out of the norm as he and Nathan were the most responsible and always showed up to band meetings.

"Alright, what's this all about?" Nathan demanded.

"Yeah, we never have band meetings this early," Skwisgaar commented.

"Yeah, why so early?" Murderface chipped in.

"Yeah," Toki agreed mostly just wanting to be a part of the conversation.

"Well, first off," Charles started; leaving off that he knew something was up with their drummer, "Where is Pickles?" He watched all their reactions closely.

"I don't know," Nathan sighed as if this was all so inconvenient for him, "He was pretty drunk last night."

"Yeah, we all were," Murderface pitched in an excuse for his bandmate, "We were all pretty smashed, he's just sleeping it off." Charles eyed him suspiciously; William seemed a little nervous over the subject of Pickles and it was odd that he would offer up an excuse for him. The bass player's usual M.O. was to complain that the other band members were not working has hard as him, but this time he was offering up an excuse.

"Maybe he is just ashamed he didn't get any lady friends last night," Skwisgaar added, "Even Toki got a lady friend, Pickles probably feels inferior."

"Yeah, I got a lady friend!" Toki said excitedly but then added on his friend's behalf, "Poor Pickles."

"Yeah, I think Pickles is really losing it with the ladies," Nathan continued the conversation even though Charles was clearly ready for it to be over so they could get down to business. The lead singer then mumbled, "Probably because he's going bald or something," then he continued in a louder voice, "Guess we should probably help the poor guy."

"Yeah!" Toki said excitedly. "We'll take Pickles out and find him a real nice lady!"

"I will help him find a lady," Skwisgaar interjected, "I am the best with the ladies."

"Skwisgaar," Toki complained.

"Guys," Charles tried to break the conversation.

"No, I should get him a lady," Murderface called out, he didn't want anyone spending time with Pickles alone in case he blabbered, besides, he kind of wanted some more alone time with the drummer.

"Oh please," Skwisgaar huffed, "You can't get yourself a lady."

"Take that back!" Murderface demanded standing up and pulling out his knife.

"Guys can you just calm down for a second?" The manager spoke calmly not wanting another fight to break out.

"I have an idea," Nathan beamed, "We'll all get Pickles a lady and whoever gets him the best lady wins."

"Deal!" Murderface and Skwisgaar shouted at the same time.

"Deal!" Toki called out just a second after the other two. Then they all fell silent.

"Are you all done now?" Ofdensen sighed exasperated. Nathan grunted a yeah in response. Charles had an idea now of the cause of Pickles problem. It had something to do with Murderface as he was acting a little strange, not that he didn't act strange already, but it was strange for him. Charles got the info he was looking for so he continued the rest of the meeting talking about the new album and other things that were up for concern.

After the meeting the manager's next step was to look at video footage of last night. He doubted he could get Pickles to tell him what happened as the klokateer reported that Pickles threatened him. That was not a good sign, it meant that Pickles was seriously hurt, maybe not just physically, and Charles wanted to avoid talking directly to him as to avoid emotion.

The manager was not an emotional kind of person. Anytime the band members would have something emotional going on his solution was to just be nice to them. He wasn't sure how to help them in that way, he didn't even know how to react when Toki hugged him.

When he went to review the footage the most inconvenient thing happened. The security office had been set on fire and all footage lost. His suspicions about Murderface were high, but he also knew that whatever happened to Pickles could have been a Klokateer. The question now was, was Murderface smart enough to destroy evidence? He hoped it was a klokateer and not Murderface for the sake of the band.

Charles found that he had no choice now; he had to go to Pickles room and find out from the horse's mouth what had happened. In a way, the Manager blamed himself for this mess, if he had only listened to his gut all of this could have been prevented.

When the manager got to the drummers door he took a deep breath. It was his duty to be there for his band, he was good at the financial stuff, he was good at the physical stuff, but not the emotional stuff. He hoped that maybe if it did get emotional he would do this right. However, perhaps it wouldn't get emotional; perhaps this was nothing at all. Maybe Pickles was just drunk and somehow ended up naked, got in to a fight. His gut told him this wasn't the case but Charles just wanted things to go smoothly. For once in his career he wanted things to go smoothly.

He finally knocked, but there was no answer. He knocked several more times with no answer and finally decided just to go in. But the door was locked. Usually Pickles left his door unlocked, he was very social and never minded interruptions even when he was sleeping.

"Pickles," Charles called. He suddenly got this horrible sickening feeling. "Pickles!" Something wasn't right. He quickly knocked the door down with a hard kick to the door. The red head wasn't on his bed or around it. He quickly checked the bathroom and there Pickles was. He was leaning on the toilet naked, the toilet was filled with vomit and there were vodka bottles and pills everywhere. Pickles held a mostly empty vodka bottle in his hand and there was an empty bottle of mystery drugs floating in the vomit.

This was not an unlikely scenario, Pickles was notorious for drugs and alcohol, but something about this scene did not set right in the manager's stomach. Ofdensen slid to his knees quickly and grabbed Pickles face.

"Pickles!" He yelled trying to wake him. "Pickles, I need you to wake up." Charles checked his pulse. It was faint, very faint. The drummer's breathing was very shallow. Ofdensen grabbed his phone quickly and called for the klokateers in the hospital wing. He then proceeded to pick the drummer up bridal style and bring him to the bed. He covered the red head up with a sheet.

"Pickles," Charles called and lightly slapped the drummer's face several times to try and rouse him from sleep. He had to wake him up. Charles was alert about overdoses, the band did so many drugs that this was expected, however it never actually happened. But this was happening now. With no response Charles slapped him hard across the face.

Pickles woke up and Charles quickly turned him over so he could vomit on the floor. He then started to shake violently and started to fight and push away from his manager. Ofdensen quickly grabbed Pickles by the wrists and crossed them and held them down on Pickles' chest.

"Let me go!" Pickles screamed. Klockateers came rushing in with a gurney.

"Pickles," Charles tried to say calmly yet firmly. "Pickles calm down; I'm trying to help you."

"Let me go!" Pickles kicked his legs and hit a klokateer in the face. Another klokateer grabbed his legs and held them down. Charles and the gear pulled Pickles up and on to the gurney and tried strapping him in. Pickles kicked another klokateer and tried to free himself from his manager. "Get off of me!" He screamed. Charles finally got him strapped down and the klokateers quickly wheeled him away to the hospital wing all the while Pickles was screaming and shouting for them to release him.

As Dethklok's manager walked out of Pickles room right after Pickles was wheeled out he fixed his hair took a deep breath and followed after, not noticing Toki watching just around the corner.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened when Pickles reached his room after his rape.  
> And the guys talk about getting Pickles a lady while Toki tries to tell them what he saw

When Pickles got to his room he panicked. No doubt his manager would be hearing about this, threatening to kill one of the gears was an empty threat when it came to keeping secrets from Ofdensen. That guy knew about everything. Pickles didn't want anyone to know about this. He didn't want them to know that he got off on it, at least his body did. He didn't mean to feel any sort of pleasure. It hurt so much but he got hard and that scared him. He couldn't bare the thought of what the band might think of him if they found out. He couldn't bare to remember it himself.

Throughout his entire life he had been drinking away his pain and memories, ever since he was six. And tonight was going to be a hard one to forget.

Pickles hyperventilated and curled up in to a ball leaning against his door. His breath was erratic and he tried to calm down, he needed to get rid of these thoughts, needed to get rid of the memories. Eventually he pulled himself together long enough to pull himself on his bed and grab a bottle of vodka. He took a long swig and then curled up under his blankets. He felt sick to his stomach but tried not to vomit so the alcohol would do what he needed it to do.

He started to feel horribly sore in all areas, especially his ass and dick. His adrenalin had finally worn off and he was feeling everything ten times more. His arms hurt from the strain of being tied up. His back and limbs hurt from being put in to different positions and thrown on the floor. His ass felt like it just got horrible rug burn he could feel the wetness of his blood but it was all drying up. His dick had never hurt this much before in his life, and he had felt some horrible pain there before (mostly from drunken fights and being kicked in the unmentionables). Nothing could have prepared him for that. He didn't think you could fit anything up such a tiny hole but Murderface managed it. He didn't think he'd be able to pee right every again.

The pain reminded him of everything in great detail. He felt like he'd be reliving the vivid memory forever. He rocked himself a little, he couldn't bring himself to move to take another drink, he just rocked in bed trying to stay calm. Tears fell from his eyes making his pillow damp. He sniffed a little and breathed out a breath he had been holding.

This was some sort of dream, it wasn't real. Maybe he was just having some fucked up dream. It was a comfortable thought, a beautiful lie he often told himself about certain situations. He wondered what would happen now, when the night was over. Would he go back to normal? How would he act around Murderface? And would Murderface do it again?

Pickles remembered the hands on him, the warm breath. The roughness. The loud music covering up his screams. He vomited on the floor. "Oh God," he breathed out, "Oh God." Shaking, he quickly took a drink, gulping it down as quickly as he could until the bottle was empty. He grabbed a couple more bottles he had hiding under his bed and a bottle of drugs he often saved for special occasions. The vomit stunk; it made him want to vomit more so he headed to the bathroom to keep away from the smell and to prevent more from getting everywhere in case he did it again.

He limped to the bathroom; barley making it due to exhaustion and pain. He sat next to the toilet. The drummer took a few pills and washed it down with some alcohol. He felt cold on the tile floor but he didn't want to get up to get a blanket, his body felt too heavy anyway. Pickles put his head between his legs and rested his back against the wall by the toilet. He rocked more, it felt comforting to rock a little, like swaying when he was drunk, he loved being drunk, he loved blacking out. He wanted to black out right now. He was so tired but he couldn't sleep, he was too shaken, too scared.

He looked at the pill bottle and wondered how many it would take in order to take a nap. He had a high alcohol and drug tolerance. He chugged the bottle in his hand. He felt smashed but he could still feel hands on him, he could still smell his band mate. He puked in the toilet then immediately started shoving pills in his mouth washing them down with another bottle of vodka.

Pickles took the whole bottle of pills, he hoped that was enough, he hoped he wouldn't vomit it all up. He dropped the pill bottle in the toilet and lay on the floor. He wasn't sure where he was anymore. Everything was moving and he felt like he was floating, he felt strangely at peace. He smiled, the poor red head didn't know what was going on, there was this feeling tugging at the back of his mind but he figured maybe he was just forgetting something, and he hoped it wasn't important.

In his line of vision there was something crawling, his heart skipped a beat and he started to feel anxious. He looked hard at it. It morphed and got closer, causing his skin to tingle and jump. He squinted. It suddenly became Murderface's face warped in to an expression of ecstasy, Pickles screamed before finally passing out.

Toki wasn't sure what was going on. All he knew was that Ofdensen had Pickles strapped to a gurney against his will and that didn't sit well with Toki. He had to tell the guys and see what they should do about it. Maybe he was just being paranoid, after all Charles always meant well for them.

He found his bandmates in the main room as usual.

"Hey guys," Toki started out not sure how to tell them what he saw.

Nathan was in the middle of a conversation with Skwisgaar. "Tonight is my night, I'm going to take Pickles out and find him a really pretty lady."

"Well, be sure to get pictures so I know what I'm up against when I'm finding a lady for Pickles tomorrow," Skwisgaar responded in excitement. It was easy for him to find women but to find a woman for someone else was a challenge and he like challenges when it came to the ladies.

"Hey guys," Toki called, he never did talk loud enough to get the other guys attention. Murderface was absorbed in a game and didn't hear him either.

"Nope, you don't get to see any pictures until after the bet," Nathan said sternly, "This is going to be fair, well, between us anyway." He looked over at Murderface with pity.

Skwisgaar agreed, "No way Murderface is going to be able to beat us."

"Yeah it would be a miracle if Murderface found a woman" Nathan continued. Toki tried standing next to them hoping to be noticed but to no avail.

"At least he has a better chance getting someone for Pickles instead of himself"

"GUYS!" Toki finally shouted losing patience.

"Yes, what is it?!" Skwisgaar shouted back mostly from being startled but a little from annoyance.

"I just saw Pi-" Toki started but was interrupted

"Yeah, what is it?" Murderface cut in.

Toki started again, "I just saw Pickles-"

Nathan interrupted, "Yeah, we were just talking about him, I can't wait for tonight, he going to have a great time!" Nathan Explosion quite liked hanging out with his friend Pickles, tonight was just the two of them picking up chicks. The lead singer loved one on one time with his best friend. He could relate to Pickles the best, they were from the same country and had the same ambitions and views about the band and how to have fun in general.

"Well maybe not cause-" Toki tried to warn.

"Cause he'll have an even better time with me," Skwissgaar finished Toki sentence. There was something about this band that made them want to compete for affection, perhaps it is because they all had bad pasts and the gap was filled with metal and death. And the only people they had to share in the metal and death was the band members, it brought them closer than they would even be willing to admit. And no matter how much they claimed not to care about each other they did.

"Wait, but-"

"Oh please!" Murderface wailed, "He's going to have a hell of a time with me, I'm going to find him the perfect woman and you all are going to bow down to me in my greatness!" Skwisgaar and Nathan laughed at this immediately.

"Yeah, okay Murderface," The lead singer laughed out. William crossed his arms in anger.

"Just you wait," The bass player said in his defense, "I-"

"Pickles was taken away on a role away bed thing!" Toki screamed.

"What?" Nathan asked in confusion, "Like one of those fold up beds… that's weird."

"No, I mean like a hospital bed," Toki pleaded trying to get them to understand.

"What?" Murderface asked a little panicked, "What for?" Pickles better have no breathed a word, Murderface though angrily.

"I don't know," Toki explained, "But I saw Ofdensen there and Pickles was yelling at the klokateers to let him go."

"They've taken him against his will?" Skwisgaar asked.

"Yeah," Toki said sadly, "I'm worried about him."

"Well, I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this," Murderface tried to say nonchalantly.

"Well, let find out what happened," Nathan said a little off put by the situation, "Ofdensen better not fuck with my and Pickles night tonight."


	6. Silent tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pickles gets a rude examination

Pickles had a minor overdose. Considering Pickles record for drugs and alcohol Offdensen was surprised he had even a minor overdose, but the drummer was looking bad physically so perhaps that was a factor.

The red-head was finally calm after half an hour of struggling against his restraints before he gave up and fell in to a fitful sleep. Charles was truly worried about what had caused this mess. But his worries were soon overridden with annoyance as he saw the rest of the band approaching.

"Hey Offdensen!" Nathan yelled out to the manager, "You better not be fucking up my plans with Pickles tonight." The band stood in front on their manager with their arms crossed waiting for an explanation as to why their drummer was in the hospital wing when he should be hanging out with them.

"Well boys," Charles started, "I'm not trying to keep you from your plans, but uh, unfortunately Pickles has had an overdose and needs to stay here overnight for observation, so you might have to make different plans."

"An overdose?" Skwisgaar questioned, "Is that even possible?"

"Yeah," Nathan agreed, "Pickles has been drinking and doing drugs for so long, is it even possible to have an overdose, I mean, he's practically immune, right?" Everyone seemed to agree accept for the manager who pinched his nose and sighed.

"Look," The manager explained, "You don't become immune to drugs and alcohol just because you do it all the time. Now, Pickles is staying in the hospital until he recovers."

"Can we at least see him?" Toki asked. Charles noticed Toki looked a little worried and although the rest of the band didn't show much concern he knew that they were.

"He's not conscious right now, perhaps tomorrow when he is feeling better," Offdensen replied.

"What? You won't even let us see him?" Nathan complained, "That's bullshit you robot!" The band continued to verbally abuse their manager and each other until they got bored and dispersed determined to find something better to do.

**}{**

Later that night, after a busy day Charles went to the hospital wing to see if Pickles was conscious and coherent. He was eager to find out what had happened the previous night, so whatever needed to be dealt with would be.

Charles walked in to the hospital room to find Pickles awake and still strapped by his wrists and ankles to the bed. Pickles looked battered and bruised. It made the managers blood boil. Dethklok was very important to him and he hated to see anyone fuck with his bread and butter. But the manager found he was angrier than he expected. Usually he knew everything that happened to his boys but this time he had no idea. Charles hated being in the dark about situations and he hoped Pickles would spill the beans quick so he could deal with it in a quick and efficient manner. Of course, he knew that's not the way it would go.

"Uh, Pickles?" Charles said cautiously standing by the bed looking down at the drummer. Pickles lay there with his head lying on his pillow looking at the ceiling. "I know something happened last night; I know it wasn't just an ordinary drunken banter."

The red-head's heart started beating fast. He wondered if Charles knew what happened. Was he going to be berated for having homosexual relations with Murderface? Was he going to be blamed for this? Did the others know? Surely he would be made fun of or worse kicked out of the band along with Murderface because being gay was not metal. Pickles gripped his blanket into tight fists. Technically Pickles was bi-sexual but he leaned toward women because it was something all the guys could agree on. And having sex with Murderface was completely against his will. He did not want that, but his dick still got hard when it happened. Did that mean he actually liked it? He thought not, it was absolutely horrible. Pickles' was confused and sick, he felt like he was going to vomit again but there was nothing to vomit. He was sober right now and he head hurt and he was a bit shaky from withdrawal.

"Pickles?" Charles said trying to get Pickles attention but the drummer was deep in thought. "Pickles!" This startled traumatized man and he lifted his arms to shield himself but he couldn't because his arms were strapped down. This led him to a struggle with his confinement. Why was he strapped down? Why wouldn't everyone just leave him alone? "Pickles stop." Pickles kept pulling at the straps trying to get free; he started to get desperate, moving his whole body around getting more erratic. Hadn't he had enough of this last night? He started hyperventilating and continued the struggle; the heart monitor's beeps quickened. The manager grabbed Pickles by the shoulders and pushed him down on the bed.

"NO!" Pickles screamed, not again, he thought.

"Pickles!" Charles yelled and demanded, "Look at me right now!" Pickles did with fear of what might happen if he didn't. The battered man looked in to his manager's eyes and he realized it was just Offdensen. It was just boring Offdensen who berated the band for bad behavior, a robot who only seemed to care about Dethklok as a business, and their protector from harm. Charles always made sure no one hurt them.

"Charlie," Pickles sobbed and stopped struggling. He stared in to dark brown eyes and started to let tears flow down his cheeks. Charles wasn't sure what to do so he did what a mother might do with a child. He wrapped his arms around Pickles shoulders and pulled him in to an awkwardly positioned hug. Pickles couldn't hug back but he leant in to it and cried in to the other man's shoulder. After a few minutes Pickles calmed down and Charles let go of him and they stayed in silence for a moment.

"Pickles," Offdensen started. "I need to know what happened." Pickles tensed at this. The brown haired man may have made him a bit calmer but that didn't really change anything. He didn't want anyone finding out what happened.

"Nothing happened," Pickles sighed quietly staring up at the ceiling. Offdensen was not pleased to hear this because it was very obvious something did happen. Never in the long time have they known each other has the manager once seen the drummer cry. Not once did he have to comfort the red head verbally or physically. Not once did things get as intimate as a hug. But this moment that had passed proved that there was something going on. What was Pickles trying to hide? Or was he protecting someone?

"Pickles," Charles said sternly, "I know something happened."

"No you don't," Pickles said forcefully looking the other man in the eye. "You know nothing because nothing happened."

"Pickles if you are trying to protect someone-"Charles said before being interrupted.

"I'm not protecting anyone," Pickles insisted, "Just took too many drugs, freaked out a little. It was just an overdose." Charles eyed him suspiciously. "Don't let it get out to anyone that I'm some kind of light weight."

"Fine Pickles," The manager spoke, "I'll let this go for now but I will find out the truth." Pickles didn't respond to this statement, he just glanced up to see that the man now standing by his bed looked more determined than he'd ever seen.

**}{**

The next day Pickles was not allowed out of the hospital. Charles was going to find the truth any way he could, with or without Pickles help. The first step was to document Pickles' injuries. But the short man wasn't going to let the doctors examine him without a fight.

When Charles came by to check on Pickles the first thing he came across was an unconscious doctor and three nurses standing outside the drummer's room. "Fuck you!" Pickles yelled and threw a bed pan straight at the nurses hitting one in the head.

"What seems to be the problem here?" Charles asked as he approached.

"We tried to do an examination as you ordered sir," the nurse said, "But when we unstrapped him and told him we were checking his injuries he started to throw a tantrum."

"I see," he paused for a moment. "Get some klokateers in here to restrain him so you can check his injuries."

"Yes sir," The nurse said.

"And I want you to do a full body checkup," Charles added.

"Sir?" the nursed asked to confirm.

"Check everything."

With extreme caution two klokateers were able to grab Pickles without too much trouble.

"Let go of me you bastards!" The drummer shouted.

"Pickles, calm down," Offdensen commanded entering the room. "The doctor is just going to check your injuries and then you can leave." Pickles tried to pull away from the men holding him but they had a vice grip.

"I'm fine; I don't need to be checked." Charles looked at Pickles for a long while. He then waved off the klokateers and they left the room. The red head sat down on the bed. "Can I just go now?" he asked in an exhausted voice.

"Pickles, it is my main duty to make sure you are okay in every shape and form," Charles began, "Not just for the bands sake but for your own." He sat down next to Pickles, the next thing he said did not come out easily. But he had no choice. After all Charles had not gotten any sleep over this matter, just a mad mood and an unsettling feeling in his gut. He hated to see Pickles this way. The dark bruises on the Irish American's porcelain skin made him want to rip throats out. He wasn't sure why he was so angry, it was perhaps that these were not ordinary bruises but hand shaped ones. Just knowing someone hurt the drummer made him want to kill. "Look Pickles, I-" He glanced at the shorter man and had a gentle tone in his voice. Pickles looked a little confused. "Pickles, I care about you." Charles put his hands on the other man's shoulders and looked in to his eyes. "I'm not one for sharing my feelings but I just need to know you are okay." The drummer stared at him for a long time, he never really thought about it too much but Charles was a handsome guy, not only that but he believed and trusted everything the manager had to say. Charles had done nothing but looked out for the well-being of the band. Hell, the manager fucking hugged him and it warmed Pickle a little inside.

Pickles leaned in and hugged the man sitting next to him and he hugged back. "Charlie, I didn't know you cared." The drummer didn't think he could handle being touched by the doctor or nurses, or anyone for that matter. He didn't want anyone to touch him, not after what happened. But hugging Charles was different. He didn't feel sick, or trapped. He felt comfort and safety. He wished that he could stay like this, think about staying with Charles forever and never have to worry about people touching him. He winced at the idea of anyone touching. The manager must had noticed because he broke the hug and looked Pickles in the eye.

"I'm a vengeful man, Pickles" He said softly, "I'll do whatever it takes to take care of this problem. Tell me what happened." The red head fiddled with his hands in his lap. He couldn't do it. What would happen if he did tell? The manager would want to know all the details; he was a detailed oriented kind of guy. Pickles couldn't even handle thinking about it much less talking about it. Plus it might break up the band. What if the guys thought he was lying? They would make fun of him. He couldn't handle any of that.

"I-" Pickles stuttered quietly looking down in his lap, "I can't."

"Then I have no choice," Charles said standing up. Pickles looked up at him unsure of what he was talking about. "I need answers and I need them now. I'm sorry." The manager walked out of the room and the klokateers walked in followed by a doctor and some nurses.

The Doctors checked the bruise patterns on the drummer's skin. They traced the blood down his legs back up to his ass. They poked and prodded him asking him where he hurt and he hardly said anything because no matter how much he struggled they wouldn't let him go so in defiance he refused to speak. The worst part finally came where they had to see where the blood came from. He struggled the most at this when the klokateers forced him to bend over so the doctor could get a better look. He kicked and screamed and shed tears. He managed to kick the doctor in the balls which was really the last straw for the doctor because he was truly tired of getting the shit kick out of him. So they injected Pickles with some medicine to try to calm him down which really didn't help anything because the drug addict was used to this sort of shit and hardly anything could mellow him out.

They eventually just had to strap Pickles wrists and ankles down again only this time with him face down. The red head did not react well to this at all. He started to hyperventilate. He was face down again. Some man hovering over him, he couldn't deal with it. He started panicking and struggled to the point where klokateers had to hold him down as the doctor spread his ass cheeks to discover a torn anus and a lot of dried blood. It was obvious what had happened. And the doctor had to take samples of the left over semen.

The checkup got even worse when the klokateers strapped him down face up so the doctor could finish checking everything; even his injured penis. It was humiliating. And when the doctor, nurses, and klokateers left him, he felt violated all over again. He wanted to curl in to a ball and hide but they didn't unstrap him so he lay there unable to do anything but let silent tears fall.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles finds out. The guys visit Pickles. Murderface makes threats

Charles Offdensen woke bright and early in the morning. He followed his daily routine of showering, brushing his teeth, putting on his clothes, and reviewing all the things needing his assistance from meeting with important people to killing threats, it would be a regular day at the office. Only today he didn't make sure his tie was just right. He didn't double check to make sure the list of tortures and executions was accurate. He didn't even eat his protein bar for breakfast. His first order of business was to get a head count of the boys and second was to go straight to the hospital wing to find out the results of Pickles assault.

This wasn't the first time the drummer, or any of dethklok for that matter, got injured in some way. They usually healed fast and moved on but Pickles wasn't just hurt physically, it was emotionally too. This bothered the manager because he didn't do well with emotions and he knew the boys weren't great with them either. The only time they got emotional was if something traumatizing happened. That's why what happened to Pickles bothered him so much. How could a simple beating put Pickles so ill at ease as to flinch and fight away from anyone who tried to touch him?

He entered the hospital wing and went in to the doctor's office.

"So," he started, "How is he?" The doctor stood immediately out of respect.

"He's calm right now, sleeping," The doctor began grimly; "We examined him much to his detest. We had to run some tests."

"Tests?" Charles asked sincerely, "Did you find anything of use to find the culprit?"

"Semen," The doctor said flatly. "Pickles the drummer was sodomized." Offdensen didn't react for minutes. He stood their staring at the wall ahead of him and slowly his eyes burned with anger. His fist clenched. Mr. Offdensen was not one for showing emotion, he trained well. But this was hard to keep in.

"What are the results?" Charles asked turning his head slowly to look at the doctor who looked a little frightened under his gaze.

"I don't have the results yet," The doctor answered carefully. Charles wasted no more time with this. He needed to know who did this. It was his job to know everything. He quickly made his way to Pickles' room.

When the door swung open it startled the drummer awake and he warily looked on as his manager entered in the room with an aura of anger. "Who did it Pickles?" He spat furiously. Pickles looked at him as if he had lost it. "Who raped you?" The red head's eyes widened and he just stared unsure of what to say unsure of how to.

Charles paced. How could this have happened? Under his nose? In mordhaus? Under the protection of the klokateers and Charles himself? How could he let this happen to one of the most important members of Dethklok?

"Offdensen moved toward Pickles quickly and grabbed stiff shoulders. "Pickles, I know you're scared, I know something bad happened. But you have to tell me who did this." He tried to say this calmly without anger and he mostly succeeded.

Pickles took a shaky breath. He couldn't do it. He couldn't say. He just wanted to pretend that nothing happened. He wanted things to rewind and return to normal. "I- I can't," He said quietly looking away from the man holding his shoulders tightly.

Offdensen did not like this answer. He let go of the smaller man and punched the wall leaving a dent. That was the most anger he'd shown in a long time and the first time Pickles ever saw Charles emotional.

Suddenly the rest of Dethklok came in. Charles quickly collected himself and left without saying another word. The band didn't think much of it.

"Hey Pickles," Nathan said awkwardly. Pickles flopped his head down on his pillow feeling tired and anxious.

"Hey," he responded. The four band members made their way in to the room and surrounded the bed. Nathan and Toki at his sides, skwisgaar next to Toki, and Murderface next to Nathan by Pickles legs. The drummer looked at the ceiling knowing that William was there but pretending he wasn't.

"How you feeling buddy?" the bass player lisped acting as if everything was normal and right in the world. Pickles didn't want to answer, didn't want to answer him. But if he didn't want the others to think there was something wrong he had to act normal. He sucked in a deep breath and played it as cool as he could.

"I'm alright," the drummer said moving to look at Murderface. When he looked at him he felt anger and betrayal. He felt sick at the same time but he held everything in. "I'm pissed off they have me in these straps though," he continued pulling a little at the straps to show them what he meant.

"Yeah, that sucks," Skwisgaar responded poking at one of the straps.

"Hey Pickle, we got you something," Toki said excitedly. He pulled out new drum sticks. They looked like they had been blood splattered, it was pretty metal.

"Oh, cool," Pickles smiled. He was about to reach for them and realized he couldn't. "I guess I can't hold them with these straps on, you guys mind if you-"

"Is that really a good idea," Murderface interrupted. "Obviously those straps are there to keep you safe."

"Yeah Murderface is right," Nathan agreed, "I mean, maybe it would be a good idea to wait for the doctor, you know, he's a professional and everything."

"Yeah," Pickles said grinding his jaw, "I guess so."

"Anyway," Skwisgaar cut in," We're all glad that you are better and we decided once you are out of the hospital you will go out with each of us individually."

"Individually?" The drummer asked.

"Yeah!" Toki said excitedly, "We're going to go out and get you a real nice lady!"

"Yeah, whoever gets you the prettiest lady wins," Nathan finished.

"Guys, I don't know," Pickles said not really in the mood for women. Sex was the last thing he wanted right now.

"Oh come on Pickles," Murderface pouted, "It'll be fun. I'm betting that I'll win." Murderface said this as his hand slowly gripped Pickles leg. The smaller man twitched and wanted to pull away but he didn't want the others to get suspicious.

"Please Pickles!" Toki asked. William's grip kept getting tighter and Pickles really wanted him to stop and just leave so he agreed just so they would finally go, so Murderface would go.

Nathan, Toki, and Skwisgaar left with the bass player slowly trailing behind him acting like he was following. But when they cleared the room and didn't notice he was with them anymore he turned around and went straight for Pickles. The drummer stiffened and moved his body as close as he could to the opposite side of the bed from his bandmate.

"I noticed you didn't say anything to Offdensen," he began, "It's for the best really, you don't want everyone knowing you're a fag." In a way that was true. He didn't want the band to think differently of him because he liked men a little but with what happened with William he mostly worried that he would be blamed for it. He worried that everyone would think he was making it up. He worried that everyone would think he enjoyed it and that Murderface would do it all over again. And he felt that if he told and they did believe him that it would break up the band.

"In a few nights I'll be taking you out to set you up with a lady," the bass player continued. "At least that's what the guys think." He paused to touch his hand to the other man's arm caressing his soft skin between his thumb and fingers. "The other night was one of the best nights I've had in a long time," Will said seductively as he could. "I don't see why we can't spend another night together."

"I won't go with you," Pickles said looking away from him squirming at the feel of the calloused hand on his arm.

"If you don't the guys might get suspicious and we don't want that happening," Murderface grabbed Pickles hair harshly all of a sudden and pulled the smaller mans' head up as far as it would go up to will's face. "And if you don't go I'll find another way to have you." Pickles glared into his assaulter's eyes. "That or maybe I'll try out Toki." The drummer stopped glaring and his eyes widened in surprise. Murderface dropped him and his head hit down on his pillow with a flop. "I don't know why I didn't think of it before," Murderface pondered. "But Toki is a much easier target; he's weaker and would be easier to keep quiet."

"Stop," Pickles pleaded. "I'll go with you okay!" he sobbed a little. "I'll go with you as many times as you want just leave Toki alone." Murderface smiled at this and put his hand under Pickles' blanket.

"You know what's great about being rich, powerful and being asshole," He whispered and squeezed his bandmates dick painfully, "I get to do whatever I want. The thing is Pickles," he said squeezing harder, Pickles winced and squirmed, "you're rich but you're not powerful like me. You're just a fuck toy with money." He let go and strolled out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The klokateers lie and Murderface is delusional

Charles sat in his office thinking, he was expecting the results of Pickles’ medical examination any minute now. There were other duties needing attended to but he couldn’t get his mind off the issue at hand. He usually solved things quickly, within a day if possible. An issue like this especially needed to be taken care of fast. The band has a concert coming up in a month and he needed the band to be in functioning order. He hoped this problem wouldn’t take more than a few days to solve, he hoped for financial sake that concert wouldn’t have to be canceled. He hoped even more that Pickles wasn’t permanently damaged. Pickles was an essential part of the band, so essential, that the last time they had to temporarily replace him they had to use a machine. The manager let out a heavy sigh, deep in his thoughts was a tug of concern for Pickles wellbeing, not for the bands sake, but for the man himself. Charles would never admit it, but he cared deeply for Pickles. He respected his talent, perseverance, and dare the manager think it, but the small man’s oddly alluring looks.

 

“Sir!” The doctor barged in quickly with a folder in his hand. Offdensen jumped out of his seat quickly as if he had just been found out for caring about someone and finding them attractive. How unfortunate and embarrassing to be human, he thought has he adjusted his glasses and tried to act nonchalant as if he hadn’t just jumped a foot out of his seat.

 

He cleared his throat and fixed his tie, “So, what are the results?”

 

***}{***

 

Murderface lay in his bed with a wide smirk on his face. He couldn’t wait to be alone with Pickles again. The thought of having a warm hole to fuck was absolutely irresistible. Thoughts of soft warm skin pressed up against him made his calloused dick harden quickly. It really was some of the best sex he had ever had. He started to palm himself though the fabric of his shorts.

 

He started to regret not doing this before. All this time he had tried to get a willing woman and it turned out he just needed a person, doesn’t matter who they are or what they want, getting off on anyone was easy. Had he known he could have started fucking someone right away without consequence, he would have started a long time ago. It had just never entered his mind to do so until he was desperate. He pulled his hard length out and started to pump it in his hand. Just the thought of fucking got him off. He was by no means done with what he had started. The craving for sex only seemed to have intensified from raping Pickles.

 

He almost regretted that it was Pickles. It could have been anyone, it just so happened to be Pickles in the wrong place at the wrong time. He did sort of like Pickles’ personality and of all the band members he was the most tolerable and a pretty good friend. The bass player let out a satisfied sigh sighed staring at the ceiling. Actually maybe it wasn’t all that regrettable. He picked up the pace with his hand, thinking about freckled porcelain skin and ginger hair. He came in hard, this was probably the best masturbation session he had in a while. He closed his eyes and smiled, thinking of Pickles, and the last thing he thought before drifting to sleep was ‘friends to lovers’.

  

***}{*** 

 

“Sir, I have unfortunate news regarding the results,” The doctor said grimly holding the folder out the CFO. Charles took it quickly eager to know who had sodomized his drummer. Opening the folder and peering inside, he frowned. “A klokateer did this?” The semen sample was tested  for DNA and it matched the results of a one of the people Offdensen hired to protect his boys. His blood boiled. How could this have happened? He was very careful when picking gears. Charles was sure the hiring process he had come up with was flawless in picking the right people for the job. “Have him brought to me at once,” He commanded sternly. He didn’t show his anger, he tried not to be angry. He needed to think about this rationally, so that he could make sure something like this can never happen again.

 

The doctor did as ordered. He left his boss’s office hand met with the klokateer Offdensen thought responsible. “Thank you for your sacrifice,” The doctor said to the gear as they made their way to their boss down the hall.

 

“Anything to keep Dethklok on the right path,” The gear responded. Should Charles find out the truth and do something to Murderface, it could break the band up. They could not let that happen, the world’s economy depended on their music. They felt that it wasn’t a choice between Pickles and Murderface. They felt it was a choice between should the bass player being punished and kicked out of the band or stay in the band to keep the music going. The logic was flawless in the klokateers’ eyes; they had a duty to protect all their masters, even Murderface. It has always been a rule to never interfere with arguments and issues between band members as long as the members of dethklok aren’t trying to kill eachother. They feared this rule may be broken because of the extenuating circumstances. While they would do something about the horrible deed done to one of their masters by another it seemed best not too for the world’s sake. They wanted to stick to that logic, and by the looks of it Pickles wasn’t too keen on sharing the truth with the band’s manager anyway, so surely the klokateers couldn’t be blamed for keeping a secret for their masters and protecting the truth for the good of all.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, but please be gentle, I am sensitive...


End file.
